from the artist

I find myself drawn to
textiles wherever I
travel. At marketplaces,
among the calls of farmers
and rugmakers, metalsmiths
and maskmakers, potters
and thatchers and cobblers;
I seek out the cloth sellers
and linger.

Practical, ornamental, ceremonial:
every culture has its various
uses for fiber; and in so many
places, life is art.

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I am impressed by the way a piece of cloth can change a setting and the way a color or combination of colors can alter a mood. This was my task when I imagined the original Seven Scrolls: to make color and texture available in an artful way, not as literal as a quilt, yet less removed than an abstract painting. I wanted to create something complex in scope, simple in form and versatile in function; something one could use to define a space or to embellish it.

Born in the San Francisco Bay area and raised in various places on the west coast, I soaked in the brilliant colors of Latino art and culture. Later, Jamaican, Haitian and African artists came my way and try as I might, the calicos and comfort colors of traditional American quilting just wouldn't stay put on my cutting table. Now, after more than twenty-five Maine winters, I am particularly grateful for my urge toward vibrancy in the studio when the trees outside let go their leaves and the earth and sky turn pallid.

You'll find fabric from many countries in my work. Some from my own travels, others came as gifts from fellow travelers, friends, family. A gift of printed or woven cloth is intensely personal, universally familiar, a necessity we share, a luxury we dream of. This work has been a gift to me, a chance to integrate my love of texture and color within the context of the rest of my life: imagination, inspiration, balance, hope, love, the home we all share and the ever-expanding unknown.